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I Have A Joke

What’s pink and blue and sore all over?

My nipples.

This morning at around 2am I was yelling at Hamish. I was told that if you yell at them it scares them and they stop biting. Not this psycho. To be fair, it must be pretty funny to hear your mum simultaneously trying to scold you without engaging with you enough to wake you up. Fucking paradox. Hilarious.

This morning at 5am I was smacking a baby. Through a blanket and a nappy and it was half hearted, so I honestly don’t even feel bad. I feel like I might have had an emotional breakdown if he was my first but I don’t care. I don’t know what my plan was exactly. I think I just wanted to shock him out of the death grip he had on my well used nipples. Maybe give him a taste of his own abusive medicine. He liked it. You’d think I’d said something real funny. Maybe I did. Maybe “oh, my god, Hamish. Fucking stop.” Is the funniest thing there is?

This morning at 6am I was seriously thinking about punching a 5 month old. In the face. I wanted to punch a baby. In the face. It was a real thought that went into my head. I’d like to say I stopped thinking it immediately but I’d be lying. I wanted to punch his little button nose for a good 10 minutes.

I’ve heard old people suggest flicking their nose and I wanted to go one better to ensure this shit stops immediately.

I stopped thinking it when I told my husband and he laughed. The cackling of reason. The chuckle of no lady.

So without physical or emotional violence I’m stuck with the option of weaning and I honestly don’t have the energy. Mouth guard? Nipple guard? Send him off to be raised with the wolves where he clearly belongs because he is a vicious fucking creature?

All viable options to be considered as my caffeine consumption accumulates through the day. I’ll let you know.